Write It Out
by diamondpearl876
Summary: Neither one of them likes to talk about their parents. It's Robin who tries to find a way around this fact. .franky/robin.


Written for 30_onepiece. Prompt: mother.

I own nothing.

Write It Out

Robin doesn't like to talk about her parents with others. She doesn't like to appear weak as the tears spill, doesn't like to appear vulnerable as she reveals her past and how twisted it is.

Franky doesn't like to talk about his parents with others, either--but for an entirely different reason. He's too bitter and angry for being abandoned and unwanted to speak of them.

And they both can tell that the other feels this way. Franky can tell as she always keeps quiet (just in case anything slips out) and observes everyone around her as if she'll see them for the last time (because that's the kind of effect that the past has on her). Robin can tell because he scowls and leaves the room immediately whenever Usopp brings up his father, because he's always so protective of the other members of the crew as if they're his children.

*

It's Robin who brings up the idea of passing a journal between the two of them to talk about past memories and dreams regarding the ones who were supposed to be a part of their lives longer than they were.

It's Franky who agrees relunctantly, thinking that if it makes her happy and if it alleviates some of her hidden pain, then he has no good reason to decline.

*

_I remember wanting to hold my mother's hand and intertwining my fingers with hers only to never, ever let go again._

That's the first entry in the journal, written by Robin. Franky thinks it's corny and silly, really, but he doesn't laugh, doesn't mock her out loud--because the handwriting is so clear and perfect, free of marks, and it shows him that she has no doubts about how she feels and how she used to feel, and that she wants to be heard.

So he thinks for a long while and he writes something simple. This is for her, after all. It's not for him.

*

_I remember feeling alone and scared._

It's not funny, but Robin chuckles to herself anyway. She should have expected this, should have known that Franky would only put a very small part of his heart into these notes. She confronts him later, tells him to make it longer next time, because if he doesn't, it defeats the purpose of all of this. He just says nothing and walks away without looking back.

*

_I remember wanting to give my mother the moon and the stars and the world and all of my love._

Robin was only eight-years-old, Franky remembers, so he can't think of it as a crazy and impossible desire. He looks up to the sky, feels the warmth of the sun above. For now, there's too much light and it's the wrong time of day, but he knows that he'll be making a wish for her tonight when nighttime comes, when all is serene on the ship.

Until then, he'll pick up a pen and try to live up to her expectations this time.

*

_I remember wondering if the real reason I made such dangerous ships was to find my parents and get revenge on them._

She can tell that he struggled because scribbles and sloppy, half-hearted handwriting covers more than half the page. Still, she smiles, because this is much, much better. She can't imagine someone as gentle as he trying to be so purposely violent to people who are important to him, but she trusts his words anyway, doesn't judge him, doesn't treat him any differently.

And as she writes, she hopes that this is somewhat worthwhile for him.

*

They keep writing like this, keep passing the valuable journal between each other. They never allow any other curious and nosy people to get to it, never allow for food or drink to spill and tarnish the pages that they've come to cherish. They make sure they always have a pen ready for when the journal enters their hands again, for when it's time to read and write and smile and sometimes even cry. The entries get longer and more personal as they learn that they can completely trust each other, as they learn that this is more therapeutic than they had originally thought it'd be. Robin finds it even easier to be alive and breathe because of the weight of her secret world is taken off her shoulders, and Franky learns to remain content and calm as his fury is turned into words instead of clenched fists.

And eventually, there's nothing left to to write.

*

"We can't just leave it lying around now that we won't use it anymore," Robin says, no surprise or dismay present in her voice. They both knew from the start that this time had to come at some point. They hardly knew their parents at all, hardly had any time to create more feelings and memories, after all.

"Why not? This ship will sail to the end of the world!" Franky protests.

"The whole ship doesn't need to be destroyed for it to get lost in combat or stolen."

Franky sighs. "I guess you're right. What do we do, then?"

Robin moves to the edge of the deck and points out to the endless, vast waters. "Give it to the sea."

Franky thinks that it's a super idea.

*

They put it in a large barrel, making sure that there aren't any holes for water to leak in and ruin the pages where they spilled the darkest and secretive and dearest part of their lives. Together, they lift it to place it into the sea as gently as they can--and they linger for a moment, thinking that they had started this for each other, not for themselves, but it turned out that it helped them both. It was a perfect answer to their prayers in their desperate times of need.

They stall for even longer as they stare at each other for a moment before nodding and smiling faintly, before they let go and allow the barrel to come in contact in the water, never to return to their scarred hands again.

And they simply stand and watch as the waves carry the barrel away, as the waves help it travel through the calming sea--where the memories and feelings sealed inside the journal began and ended.


End file.
